Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Swaziland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Monochrome Set to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Hood,
the Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
The American Breed,
Judy Mowatt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marmalade,
Eddi Front,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thee Headcoats,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
Black Flag,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joyce Sims,
Sound Behaviour,
The Zeros,
Rapeman,
The Stooges,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young,
Brick,
Marine Girls,
Boredoms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Green,
The Invisible,
Roger Hodgson,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Finger,
Bauhaus,
Deepchord,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arcadia,
Fad Gadget,
Procol Harum,
Livin' Joy,
Eric Dolphy,
Scrapy,
LL Cool J,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Jawbox,
Easy Going,
John Cale,
Chrome,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Von Mondo,
Nick Fraelich,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.